


Violet Coffee

by Linea14



Series: Klance Short Stories & One-Shots [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Barista Lance, Coffee Shops, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, lance is a barista
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8744290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linea14/pseuds/Linea14
Summary: Keith avoids Coffeeshops for one reason- his soulmark.  The first words he will say to his soulmate lay etched on his arm, and he certainly does not need more stress in his college life.But Pidge has other ideas.





	1. Bitter Coffee (or is it sweet)

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is Unbeata'd and I wrote it in like 15 min so if you notice any mistakes just tell me- also sorry if I made a mistake with Pidge at any point, I kept messing up their pronouns.  
> ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoy! *Squishes AUs together and shoves them at you* you'll eat it and you'll like it.
> 
> Keith is so out of character and all over the place in this it's not even funny. *chuckles weakly* well maybe a bit my failures amuse me.

The words were second nature by now.

 

“I don’t like coffee.”

 

Pidge raises her eyebrows at him, leaning forward and momentarily abandoning her laptop.  “You mean to tell me, that you, Keith Kogane, don’t like coffee?”

 

“...Yeah?”

 

“What.”

 

“What?”

 

“...”

 

“It’s not that surprising, is it?”

 

Pidge squints at him from behind her glasses.  “Yes.  It is.  Fuck you, you’re coming with me to get coffee.”

 

A familiar panic swells inside of him.  “Pidge, no”

 

“Pidge, yes”

 

“ _ No. _ ”

 

“C’mon, it’s just a cup of coffee.  When’s the last time you went outside of our dorm for anything other than classes?”

 

Keith glares at his roommate, trying to keep his eyes from darting down to his wrist.  Where a set of words in his scratchy handwriting glare up at him.

 

The first words he will say to his soulmate.  ‘I-uh… just a large coffee, please’, in innocent red.

 

It looks like blood.  Like a death sentence, because he is  _ not  _ ready to meet his soulmate.  To tie himself down to any one person, to  _ worry  _ about someone else.  It was hard enough talking to his adopted brother, Shiro, and Pidge who was his  _ roommate _ .  He certainly did not need another relationship to tiptoe around and mess up.

 

Hell to the no.

 

But he wasn’t about to explain his deep fear of coffeeshops to Pidge when they were looking at him like that- wide eyed and swaying on their feet.  He knew how they got when they didn’t drink coffee more than five times a day, and they’d been programming (hacking?) all night.

 

So against his better judgement he just sighs.  “ _ Fine. _  Just this once.”

 

Because surely his soulmate wouldn’t be around here, of all places.

 

They squeal and wraps their arms around him.  “Thanks, Keith!”

 

He groans and pushes them away.  “Yeah, yeah, let’s just get it over with.”

 

He grabs a thick jacket and a scarf before slipping outside into the snowy horror that is his campus.  It’s loud and busy, filled with cars and bicycles, buses and passerby.  The snow drifts lazily from the sky, and everyone walks with their head down and noses flushed from the cold.  The smart ones wear hats and gloves, and the others stuff frozen fingers into chilled pockets and huddle beneath their hair.

 

Pidge steps out beside him and takes a deep breath of air before violently coughing and spluttering curses.  Keith winces sympathetically as he takes his own shallow breaths- careful to avoid the sharp intake of the cold air that would produce the exact reaction Pidge had.

 

“I  _ hate  _ the snow.”  They hiss violently, scowling up at the sky as if they blamed it for everything.

 

“You don’t like anything except your computers.”

 

“I like Rover.  And coffee.”

 

“Rover is a robot, Pidge.  And i’m fairly sure you just tolerate the drink since it keeps you awake.”

 

They roll their eyes and walk forward- of course knowing the exact path to the little coffeeshop on the corner of Arusia Street.

 

The pair trudges through the snow, wary of ice, eyes focused on their destination.

 

They’ve barely been outside five minutes and they’re already freezing.

 

Pidge slams open the door and shouts into the store, 'Altean Galaxy Coffee', rattling the bell hard enough to break it.

 

“LANCE!  HIT ME UP!”

 

There’s a light laugh that draws Keith’s attention, and-  _ shit. _

 

Ocean eyes stare back at him, belonging to a tan face and cocky grin.  The bright-blue apron unfairly brings out flecks in the boy’s eyes, further accentuating that endless gaze.  Brown hair sweeps across his forehead.  Keith’s eyes travel down even farther, pausing on the undoubtedly soft lips before continuing to stare at the well-formed muscl-  _ no enough of that. _

 

By now Pidge has already slammed their cash on the counter, dramatically flopping into a barstool in front of the boy.  He laughs again before shifting his gaze to Keith.

 

If he thought those eyes looking at Pidge were bad, they are  _ way  _ worse turned on him.

 

Lance’s face morphs into shock.  “ _ Dude _ , are your eyes purple?”

 

He knows a deep flush rises in his cheeks, and he can barely nod.  Pidge sweeps in to his rescue, piping up from behind Lance.

 

“Yes, Lance, his eyes are purple.  Tone down the flirting for a second and make me my coffee!  Keith can wait.”  Did Keith say rescue?  He meant toss underneath a bus.

 

Lance’s eyes brighten, and he looks at Keith with a newfound curiosity.  “Ohh, so you’re the roomie Pidge complains about.  Well, would you like anything?”

 

Keith panics.  He can’t help it with those beautiful eyes on his.  “‘I-uh… just a large coffee, please”

 

“Coming right up, darling.”

 

He hears Pidge starts to laugh and startles, staring at her.  “I thought you didn’t like coffee, Keith.”

 

The words wake him up.  A cold dread seeps into his stomach and he just stands there, paralyzed.

 

He didn’t even think about it, they just slipped out.  He wasn’t ready for this- he couldn’t do this!

 

A loud yelp shook him to reality, but rather than bolting he just gaped at Lance- his quiznaking soulmate- as the boy spilled coffee all over the counter.  But more surprising than that was the fact that those eyes whipped around and gawked at him.  “YOU HAVE PURPLE EYES!”  The boy shouted, leaning forward over the counter as if that would make them change.

 

“I- yeah?”

 

If he thought Pidge was laughing before, it was  _ nothing  _ compared to how they sounded now.  Half crazed, gasping and wiping tears from their eyes.  “Your  _ faces _ oh my god.  I should’ve recorded this.”  They wheezed for another second before tapping the counter. “Lance,  _ make me my coffee. _ ”

 

“Pidge.”  The boy turned, stared her dead in the eye, and spoke.  “Your coffee can wait.”

 

Now Keith would’ve been terrified if he tried to do that to Pidge, but something about the sincerity in Lance’s eyes made them blink and roll their eyes.  “Go on then.”

 

The resulting smile dazzled the room.  Coffee was still dripping from his blue sleeves, but he practically vaulted over the counter to stand in front of Keith.

 

The gaze’s intensity changed slightly, becoming softer.  A more loving glow.

 

“The name’s Lance.  Nice to meet ya, Keith.”


	2. Violet Windows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right so this is Lance's POV of the whole thing, with some Hunk/Shay thrown in because I neglected my poor yellow friend in the first chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at 3 in the morning because I really wanted to even though I should've gone to sleep so I hope it makes sense XD
> 
> Enjoy!

Lance finished off the drink with a swirl of his hand, and then a flourish for good measure. It was the small things that made his job interesting- the extra twists and the nuances of people, the little secrets he found as a dead student stumbled in and begged for coffee made by his hands.

Well, strictly speaking they probably could have gone for any type of coffee at the point they were usually at, but that was besides the point.

He set the cup on the counter and called out a name without glancing at the cup- he knew this regular. A rather cute young girl who would blush and rush back to her corner when he spoke to her.

It was fun, knowing these small details about people. But what Lance loved most were the eyes. Not even the eyes watching him as some people may have been lead to believe (what can he say, he knows he’s dramatic), but just the sheer variety of colors and emotions swirling inside. He had heard, of course, that eyes were windows into the soul but they were so much more. They were a snippet of personality, of the life the person behind those windows lead. The bags beneath their eyes showed late nights through studying or nightmares, the laugh lines wrinkled in the corners showed an old smile, the bright joy of a crush or fascination or the doting gaze of a lover swirling in a pair of eyes- so expressive, and hard to control. Because they truly are windows into the true self.

But over the myriad of colors, of greys and blues and greens, of browns and ambers and other colors he could not name, he had never seen violet eyes.

His own eyes dropped to his soulmark, smiling fondly at the blue loops and curves that formed achingly familiar words.

‘Dude, are your eyes purple?’

That was probably where his fascination with eyes came from, if he truly tried to seek the origin. He hadn’t known about their depths before he searched for them- hadn’t learned to read the iris before he finally understood what those words meant. Before he’d learned how the size of the pupil affected emotions, and how the black could overtake the color while simultaneously reflecting stars.

A familiar weight shifted into a seat at the bar and Lance grinned at the man sitting in front of him.

“Hunk! Dude, my man, my bro, how you doin?”

Hunk smiled but his eyes betrayed the nervousness within him. But if he was good at reading stranger’s eyes (and he thought himself to be) then reading his best friend?

He grinned again as he quickly made two teas, the exact steps long seared into his hands. “You going to see Shay again?”

It was fun to watch Hunk turn bright red, contrasting from the yellow Lance usually associated him with. Hunk’s usual aura dimmed with fluttery worry and Lance could barely keep himself from rolling his eyes.

“I- well she’s getting off work at Balmera Nursery early today, so I was planning on maybegoingtolunch?”

Lance stared at his friend in shock for a second, the enormity of the statement slowly sinking in. “Holy crapoli you’re actually gonna ask!?”

“AS FRIENDS!” Hunk shouted, eyes wide before Lance shushed him.

“Uh huh. Honestly you two are so obvious. You’re bringing her tea, Hunk. And asking her to lunch. How can you both think you’re just friends!?”

“I- It’s just what you do!”

Lance leaned on the counter, sliding the drinks over. “No man, it’s not what you do.”

Horror sprinted across Hunk’s face and Lance giggled. “Go get her, Yellow! You got this!”

Hunk just groaned, swiping up the drinks and bolting for the door. Lance went back to leisurely helping customers, noting the time for two reasons. One, he had a lunch break with a very nice chipotle burrito waiting for him, and two this was usually about the time Pidge showed up.

He shivered slightly at the blasts of cold air from outside as the door chimed (in a way too cheerful manner, if you asked his opinion), letting in people bundled in scarves and jackets. A dim part of his mind wondered if scarves were going to be back in fashion soon as he chatted amiably with all sorts of customers (if a few numbers found their ways onto some cups, Allura wasn’t there to complain).

There was just a lull in the otherwise stream of business when the door slammed open. Pidge. Sure enough-

“LANCE! HIT ME UP!”

Lance laughs at the words, knowing how deep into addiction they must be by now. They hadn’t stopped by in at least six hours- practically a record.

He grabs the cash slammed onto his counter and runs it through the register before looking up and noticing a second person standing awkwardly by the doorway. A red scarf wraps it’s way above a thin coat, giving the boy the appearance of a sort of puffed up lizard. But anything else he notes about his appearance (the raven hair, the way the almost-mullet curled outwards slightly, the way the boy’s face looked almost dangerously hot flushed from the winter cold) was pushed into the back of his mind.

The words slip out like water, parting naturally from his lips as if they have every right to hang in the air with a resounding echo of promise.

“Dude, are your eyes purple?”

He can see the flush in the other boy’s cheeks, the slight nod of confirmation but he can barely take his stare away.

Purple isn’t the right word- they are violet. A vibrant violet, dotted with swirling flecks of character. But what catches him isn’t only the color- it’s the depth. A past and future, some scars and rifts, the joy and courage, held temper and instinct, all spooled together in a thick pool of glowing orbs. There is so much there, waiting to be discovered. So many layers begging to be peeled back to reveal that shining core Lance knows is there.

He’s never seen eyes like these. Full of secrets and daring.

Pidge cuts into his murky thoughts, shooting a dart of clearness into his befuddled brain. “Yes, Lance, his eyes are purple. for a second and make me my coffee! Keith can wait.”

He flips her off and turns to- Keith?- with refound interest. He knows Keith; Pidge talks about him alot. Their cryptid friend.

“Ohh, so you’re the roomie Pidge complains about. Well, would you like anything?”

The boy just stands there for a second before jolting and stammering out an answer.

“I-uh… just a large coffee, please”

“Coming right up, darling.”

Lance winks as second nature now, his brain hardwired and auto piloting in flirt mode.

It’s like through water, he can barely hear Pidge’s words. Something about coffee.

A vague sense of something important starts settled within his stomach, but it grows uncomfortably hot as it unfurls inside him. Lance carefully pours the coffee, knowing Pidge’s order when suddenly-

QUIZNAK!

The drink slips from his hand, splashing across the counter. Lance pays it no heed as he whips his head around and gawks at the violet eyes.

“YOU HAVE PURPLE EYES!!”

His voice bounces back from the cafe walls but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when his- his soulmate is standing there in front of that cold door with wide eyes, lips parted in surprise.

He barely hears the confirmation. “I- yeah?”

Guffawing stabs into his mind as Lance slowly turns and stares at Pidge. “Your faces oh my god. I should’ve recorded this.” They tap the counter impatiently, still in caffeine withdrawal. “Lance, make me my coffee. ”

What the cheese? No.

He leans forward, looking them dead in those glass-rimmed eyes. “Pidge. Your coffee can wait.”

They looks vaguely surprised for a second before rolling their eyes. “Go on then.”

His soulmate.  
He leaps over the counter, coming to a stop with his heart humming rapidly in his chest.  
His soulmate.  
Those purple eyes look at him as if seeing him for the first time, stripping him bare.  
His soulmate.   
Finally, they were here. Staring at him as if he were a crystal in the darkest night.  
His soulmate.

Sticking his hand out and trying to hide the way his hand is shaking, he smiles softly.

“The name’s Lance. Nice to meet ya, Keith.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll probably be one follow up chapter... maybe
> 
> If u liked this check out some of my other ones!! (Personally I think my writing style is a bit all over the place so they might not be as good but that might just be me so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)


	3. Plants on the Ceiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally brought myself to write this. It doesn't really match the style of the rest of it, and for that i'm sorry, but I kind of like how it turned out so here ya go.

Keith stretches before dropping his hands down with a huff. This project is absolutely  _ impossible _ , and if he were Pidge he might storm up to the teacher and declare it so, but he’s not and so he doesn’t.

 

Besides, it isn’t all bad.

 

A warm body drapes itself on top of him, a steaming cup of coffee sliding onto the table besides stacked notebooks and loosely highlighted forms.

 

Keith tilts his head up and grins at the sight of his soul-mate nuzzling into his shoulder.  He never knew someone could make him this happy, so full of  _ warmth _ .

 

A muffled voice sounds, hard to understand but something Keith is used to by now.

 

“Hunk’s coming over with cookies later, we need to clean up.”

 

He relaxes into the warmth of his boyfriend, letting his gaze wander lazily over the apartment.  It really is a mess, or at least to anyone else’s eyes.  But to them it’s the culmination of a year of memories.  In the corner is a tiny table with pictures of their friends, wood dinged with when Hunk accidentally knocked it over.  The kitchen is also littered with little marks, from when Keith tried to cook and was told very sternly that if he could burn water and make potatoes explode he really should just stay out of the room.  The couch was old and torn, but it was the set for many movie nights and soft whispers, gentle caresses and falling asleep curled next to each other.  The door held a rack of shoes that Lance would announce his pride on every time he passed, the fact that he finally got Keith to stop wearing his shoes inside the house because ‘ _ that’s just not fucking comfortable, Keith _ ’.  There’s the hall that leads to the bathroom, filled with Lance’s products and the bedroom they share, coated in clothes and tiny mementos of where they’ve been and empty spaces for the places they will go.  The desk he’s at has two computers, each built by Pidge and the site of many video game battles and grueling all nighters where the only thing keeping them awake are shots of espresso and the warmth of each other.  There’s the bookshelf with all sorts of pages, his historical fiction and Lance’s young adult novels (It’s in the  _ love Keith, the love! _ ) and the shelf with both of their books on space and stars.

 

It’s not perfect, but it’s there’s.  He can barely remember a time without Lance, a time where he was afraid of his mark and dreaded the coffee shops that were now his favorite place to be, curled up on a couch while Lance worked in the background until he got his degree and they could move on to the next time in their life.  Together.  

 

“Hunk won’t mind if it’s a little messy.”

 

“No, but Shiro’s coming and you know how he gets…”

 

“Ah.”

 

With a sigh he gets up, turning in Lance’s grip to press a soft kiss to his lips.  Smiling softly, he tucks himself into those arms, relaxing.

 

It’s not always perfect.  There’s dirty cups on the stove and a scarf on the floor, there’s textbooks strewn about and for some reason a dead flower pressed into the carpet.  There’s the way the door won’t quite close because Keith slammed it too hard after a fight one time, and the mud stain they still can’t get out of the carpet no matter what they try.

 

But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy these adorable dorks as much as I do, please drop a kudos and talk to me at http://klance-is-now-my-life-force.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> May your ships sail :)

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so if it wasn't clear Lance had the 'Dude, do you have purple eyes?' on his wrist. I'd sort of be interested in continuing this, or at the very least writing it from Lance's POV if their is any interest in something like that, but I have another coffeeshop esque idea rolling around in my head that's put together a bit better than this, so I'll probably be working on that.
> 
> Update: Lances POV is now chapter two! Enjoy :3


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